


Andrenaline Rush

by SaltCore



Series: Gasoline and Gunsmoke [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Danger Fetish Hanzo, Fareeha would like a new brother hers is defective, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, High Speed Chases, Justice Siblings, Language, M/M, Of course Jesse McCree has a motorcycle, charlie foxtrot strikes again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-02-01 01:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12693852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltCore/pseuds/SaltCore
Summary: Hanzo’s gonna be the death of them both.----Request from tumblr that got too long to post directly there. redbeanfilling asked "what sort of risky shenanigans are pulled once it's realized that hanzo has a danger fetish? what happens when an operation is carried out in a justice siblings/charlie foxtrot mashup? weapons swap???"





	Andrenaline Rush

**Author's Note:**

> Well this grew in the telling.

Jesse manifestly does _not_ deserve this. He’d tried to intimate to Winston that _maybe_ Hanzo needed a little more explicit guidance on what constituted acceptable means to complete an objective. Certain things, like trying to avoid death or grievous bodily harm, were _not_ a part of the beautiful bastard’s calculus.

That oversight is how he ends up chasing down a black van full of Talon fuckers in early afternoon traffic. He whips his motorcycle between two cars, both diving away when their proximity sensors pick him up. The van is still in his sight, and so is its stowaway. He swears under his breath.

Hanzo is perched on top of the van. How he hasn’t been thrown off, Jesse doesn’t know. Magnets in his boots? He’s heard of crazier things. Jesse pulls up alongside the van, close enough to see Hanzo’s wild grin.

“Any time, babe!” Jesse yells.

“I was just waiting for you to catch up,” Hanzo says mildly, the little shit. Hanzo creeps forward, drawing an arrow. Jesse’s concentration is split between the road and Hanzo, as though _watching_ Hanzo get thrown into traffic and ground into a fine red mist would do anything to mitigate it. Hanzo draws the arrow back, fires directly through the roof of the cab. The autopilot takes over almost immediately, and the van bucks as the braking thrusters fire. It drops back behind Jesse like a stone.

Hanzo leaps from the roof of the van to another car, which dips under the sudden weight, anti-grav plates scraping the road with a squeal and sparks. Jesse cuts across the lane and slows to match its speed. Hanzo makes a second leap, dropping onto the back of the motorcycle hard enough Jesse almost loses control.

Hanzo settles himself against Jesse’s back, arms wrapping around his waist and his knees pressed into the sides of Jesse’s hips. Jesse catches sight of Hanzo’s broad smile in the mirror. Fuck if he doesn’t love it, but it scares the shit out of him.

“Faster, Jesse!”

 _Fuck me_ Jesse thinks as he twists the throttle _I got it bad_. The whine of the motor cuts through the sound of the wind whipping around them, and Hanzo starts laughing.

That’s fun for about ten seconds, then Hanzo taps Jesse’s thigh.

“We have guests.”

Behind them are four motorcycles, riders wearing the all black kit and helmets that are getting a touch too familiar for Jesse’s tastes.  Jesse swears.

“Peacekeeper!” He shouts over his shoulder. There’s no way he can guarantee the stability Hanzo will need to shoot his bow without falling off, not that it would stop Hanzo from trying. Hanzo draws his weapon out of his holster, and Jesse can feel the weight shift on the motorcycle as he twists back to fire. Jesse presses a hand to the one Hanzo still has on his waist, easing it down so Hanzo can get a grip on his belt.

Hanzo’s competent with firearms, he’d have passed quals for Blackwatch, but hitting something with a rifle linked to your HUD in these conditions would be damned impressive, never mind a pistol with iron sights and Jesse bucking the motorcycle around. Of course, it’s a hell of a lot harder to shoot _and_ drive, so even if all Hanzo could do is wave the gun around, it still might give a smart man pause.

Peacekeeper’s report is a comfort, and the scream that comes after a welcome surprise. Trust his fella to make the shot.

 Jesse sees an off ramp coming up, leading to a bridge and the way out of town. At the last possible second, he dives for an exit, dipping onto the shoulder to get around a cargo transport. The remaining three follow. Hanzo fires again, but Jesse has to weave abruptly around more cars and there’s a frustrated growl. They still haven’t fired back, but they’re following. Jesse doesn’t like that.

Jesse hears the helicopter before he sees it, and has just enough time to get really fucking pissed his intuition is always right before it finds them and skims close.

“We need some goddamned air support!” Jesse shouts into his com.

Hanzo fires the rest of the rounds into its fuselage, but he either misses or it’s not enough firepower to make a difference. Hanzo twists back and starts digging in Jesse’s pockets for the speed loaders. The doors on the helicopter open, and Jesse stops fucking around and begins evading in earnest.

“What’s the magic word?” Fareeha says, grin evident in her voice.

“Fuckin’ now, Reeha!”

“Close enough.”

She didn’t bother with an ETA, so she must be close, but Jesse doesn’t see any sign of her. They’re coming up on a bridge and Jesse guns the motor to put another cargo drone between them and the chopper.

There’s a sudden boom Jesse recognizes as Fareeha’s boosters, and a blue and white flash passes over his head from under the bridge.

“I stopped to get them something nice,” Fareeha calls.

“That looked fun, Hanzo, I wanted a turn.”

In the mirror, Jesse can see Genji hanging from Fareeha’s arms. She makes a low run, barely three meters from the blacktop and drops Genji onto a car just in front of the first guy. He falls off his motorcycle, a shuriken in his neck, and his motorcycle tips over. The one behind him crashes into it, sending him ass over teakettle, pin wheeling through the air until he mulches his face on the blacktop.

Genji jumps onto the motorcycle with the last one, and they crash too. That kind of impact is just a normal Tuesday for Genji, so he gets back to his feet and rights the motorcycle. His armor is barely even scratched. Jesse can’t see what happened to the Talon agent, but he’s probably not going to be a problem.

Fareeha pulls back up in a tight arc, gaining altitude on the chopper. The men inside fire on her, but she’s got maneuverability in spades. They don’t even get close. She gets a good angle on the chopper and fires one well-placed rocket in through the open doors and toward the cockpit. It explodes in a great orange and red fireball, putting an end to that problem.

“See you at the rendezvous. You both owe me drinks!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse says, waving her off. She laughs and boosts straight up.

Genji pulls up beside them on his borrowed motorcycle. He guns the motor, popping the front wheel most of a meter off the ground.

“I’m going to get rid of this after having a little fun!” he says, his voice lost in the wind but clear over the com. Jesse tips his hat.

“You earned it buddy, thanks.”

Genji revs again and speeds off, his motorcycle easily able to outpace them with less than half the weight. Hanzo re-holsters Peacekeeper, but instead of circling his hand back around Jesse’s waist he leaves it on his thigh. It’s more distracting than it has any right to be.

Jesse ducks off the highway and onto the side streets as soon as he can, winding around and back tracking. The sound of sirens has him on edge, but they don’t get any closer. Nobody they’d have to worry about seems to have spotted where they went.

He gets to within a few hundred meters of the rendezvous before ducking into a dark alley crowded with dumpsters for cover and cutting the motor. He hooks down the kickstand with his boot, and Hanzo hops off the back to give him room to dismount. Jesse takes a beat to really look at him—hair windblown, face flushed with excitement, pupils blown wide, and that damn perfect grin that gets Jesse into so much trouble, but no injuries, no blood. He’s fine. Christ he’s fine, but he came so close to not fine.

Hanzo steps into Jesse’s space, looking like trouble incarnate, and winds a few fingers into Jesse’s belt loops, pulling him closer. Jesse growls and crowds him back to the wall, one arm pressed into the bricks over Hanzo’s head and the other into the small of Hanzo’s back.

Thirty goddamned seconds, Jesse needs thirty seconds with Hanzo right where he can see him, _safe_. There’s still residual panic in his system from seeing Hanzo drop from the roof of that warehouse, the instant of pure, unadulterated terror before Jesse saw the van he intended to land on.

It wasn’t much better, seeing Hanzo ride off to god knows where on top of an enemy vehicle. Fucking god damn Winston for shouting _don’t let them get away_.

Hanzo hums, pleased at this turn of events. He presses closer, his lips finding Jesse’s and his clever fingers skimming the top of his belt for a place where his shirt might have come untucked. There’s no skin to find between the chest plate, the under armor, and his belt, so Hanzo seems to settle himself with tucking a hand into Jesse’s back pocket.

This close Jesse can feel the perfect, blessed cycling of Hanzo’s lungs as his chest expands and retracts. He pulls away from Hanzo’s lips to get a taste of his pulse pounding under his jaw. He lingers there, lets the steady rhythm soothe him. They’re okay, they’re both okay.

“We should get back.”

“Should we?” Hanzo asks, skimming the backs of his fingers down Jesse’s fly. Jesse groans and presses his face into the junction of Hanzo’s neck and shoulders. Damn him. Damn them both.

“Later, sweetness. Later.”

Jesse pulls away and sees Hanzo pouting at him, those regal features drawn together. Jesse gets a quick taste and turns back to the motorcycle. He doesn’t hear Hanzo following, he never does, but the motorcycle dips with the extra weight. Jesse starts it again and eases out onto the street, aimed at the rendezvous. Hanzo leans forward into his back, not even bothering to hold on at the sedate pace Jesse has adopted. Jesse reaches back and sets his hand on Hanzo’s knee.

They stay like that until they find the others.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to hmu at https://saltytothecore.tumblr.com/


End file.
